


Time Flight

by Merfilly



Series: To Fill the Void [3]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>F'nor grasps the plan... can he and Canth do it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Flight

"It's not enough!" F'lar snapped, before clenching his fists and turning away, embarrassed by the outburst. The reports from T'bor about the Southern venture were not heartening in the least. They would have thirty-two more mature dragons, but not a queen among them, and most of the riders showing signs of fatigue that would not end.

F'nor avoided reaching up to rub his healing cheek, even though it was itching drastically. At least they knew shallow scores healed fast and fairly clean now. He instead tightened his thumbs around his belt-loops, rocking from the heels to the balls of his feet as he hummed lightly. 

"Sending Prideth back to mature closer to a second flight wouldn't work well either because we need you here… and don't need her imprinting on some other bronze, giving them an advantage. It was pure luck that we made it back in time for her first flight," F'nor mused.

"I know," F'lar answered that, pulling himself back under control. "Son of my father, do you have any ideas on how to better use this trick of Canth's?"

F'nor eased back on his heels, considering.

What was the song that the Master Harper had played for them? He'd called it the 'Question Song', and all they truly had were questions.

"Let me think on it, while we go to Ruatha. I promised Lord Lessale that I would bring the tapestry to him, now that it has been returned from the Smiths," F'nor countered. He needed the space and time to think over how to use _timing_ in a way to answer their needs.

"I'll keep thinking on this." F'lar turned back to his charts, trying to decide how best to ready for the next Fall over Telgar.

* * *

The small, whip-thin man that led Ruatha now, indicated the tapestry needed to go higher on one corner. F'nor watched the helpers comply willingly; there was little fear in the drudges now that Lessale had taken firm hold.

"It's so vibrant," Lessale said. "Testimony to the weavers of Ruatha. I truly wish that Master Weaver Zurg would consider re-establishing the craft hall here." Ruatha had no native Halls, not since the occupation for so long under Fax.

"It is a beautiful work, though not quite accurate to what Ruatha looks like now," F'nor agreed, his mind half on being polite to this young and dangerously volatile Lord, and half on F'lar's problem.

Lessale nodded at that. "It was commissioned to celebrate the last Fall of the Last Pass. That fell over Ruatha, per the Records we had." His lips went thin; so little had been left unfouled by Fax's occupation.

"Last Pass," F'nor said thoughtfully. He studied the details of the tapestry, noting all the ways it seemed different from his view of Ruatha an hour past. He saw how the dwindling Red Star had been woven into place, looked at all of the dragons fighting the silvery Threads. "When Pern stil had all her Weyrs," he mused, his brain ticking over the significance of that long ago battle.

_Gone away, gone ahead._

"The situation is dire, is it not?" Lessale asked, cutting to the quick of the problem. "How can Benden do the work of six full weyrs, when Benden's halls echo in empty stretches? Will the agenothree be enough? Or these throwers of flame?" he questioned, pointing to the tubular devices depicted in the picture in the hands of people on the ground.

"Every bit of it will be a help, Lord Lessale," F'nor answered dutifully.

_Gone ahead._

Why did the song mention a time reference unless…

"My duty to you, Lord," he said, bowing his head briefly before striding purposefully toward the Hold doors, ingenious devices of a material like no other. He paused once, turning to look at the Red Star woven in, the faintness of the other stars visible in the early morning that had been woven.

Had the tapestry and song been crafted together, to lead the way for someone from here?

_We go?_

That solid reassurance from Canth, with a deeper understanding of what they would be going to, helped F'nor's resolve. If he had thought of it, F'lar would too. And Pern needed its strong Weyrleader far more than it needed a wingsecond.

* * *

Mnementh had been lounging on his mate's ledge, though Prideth was down on the Hatching Grounds. He felt, more than anything, as his clutchmate, his lifelong friend and companion, vanished from all but the tiniest, thinnest echo after one firm thought.

_We go._

That sudden loss against what was Mnementh's strongest bond outside of the one to his rider made the bronze rear up and start bugling. The rest of the Weyr listened to their lead bronze, and then joined in with their voices, confused by the fact Canth was still there… but very hard to hear.

Inside the Weyrwoman's quarters, F'lar pulled free of Kylara's embrace, missing the displeased look on her face, as his blood ran cold.

"Son of my father, what have you done?"

* * *

_Are you awake?_ came the whisper of Canth's voice, sounding as miserable as F'nor felt. 

_I think so. Are we… then?_

_Yes. Fidranth has let me eat but you have slept many days._ Canth sounded reassured, though, that F'nor was speaking to him. _There are_ so _many dragons!_

F'nor smiled and then opened his eyes to see that a … weyrling, by the knots, at Fort, colors he only knew by his lessons beneath C'gan, was watching over him. 

"Blue rider…" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"K'nir," the teen answered dutifully. "Weyrsecond F'nor?" he asked, to make sure the name he'd gotten from his Leader was correct.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Can I get you klah or water? Or… would you prefer to get up, use the necessary, so I can get your furs changed? I'm apprenticed to our healer, now that it is Interval," he explained, to alleviate the embarrassment of having his functions commented on.

"I'll use the necessary," F'nor agreed, wrinkling his nose as he felt the packing around his lower body. He'd never been so ill as to need such. K'nir moved to help him stand and adeptly aided with removing the absorbent packing material, dropping it on the furs that were stained and musty from a long illness. F'nor was grateful the long tunic they'd put him in covered him as he moved to find the necessary.

By the time he'd both cleaned up and used the necessary, K'nir had stripped the bedding and dropped it down the chute with the wastes, and set both fruit and water at hand.

"You're quick at that," F'nor praised, and was rewarded with a smile. Blues often thrived on such appreciation. Some things, it seemed, hadn't changed much.

"I'm to find Weyrleader T'ton now, sir, if you'll just eat slowly and drink. I'll have klah sent, unless you prefer a light wine?"

"Klah. Stomach seems weak," F'nor answered, while unconsciously straightening to know he'd soon see a Weyrleader that was not F'lar, R'gul, or his father. 

"Yes sir." K'nir left him then, and F'nor worked on the food against his light-headedness, aware that Canth was viscerally monitoring the way food was helping F'nor steady.

He did not wait long, before a middle-aged man walked in wearing Fort Weyrleader shoulder knots, shaking his head with a smile. 

"That Canth of yours is a self-possessed dragon! Never met a brown with so much sense or intelligence. Nor one so big, to be honest. Makes Fidranth look underfed!" He then snorted. "At least now that he's guzzled down some of the herd. Could near see his bones when we got to Ruatha to pick up the strange rider and dragon that had my mate's father calling for us by drum!"

He then stepped closer, as F'nor had risen, and stuck his hand out. "Canth told Fidranth your name is F'nor of Benden, though my esteemed colleague assures me he is missing no men or dragons! I'm T'ton, and very curious."

"F'nor, and I am of Benden, but a Benden four hundred turns to the future, Weyrleader, for Pern is in dire straits, and must ask of you a dangerous thing!" The press of need, knowing Thread was due so soon… in the future. Not now, not here. The idea Canth had been so poor left him chilled, and he knew he could not just rush through this. "Can you arrange for the Master Harper and the other weyrleaders to come, so I may explain to all? Canth and I come on important business, but all should hear."

T'ton frowned a moment, then shrugged and nodded. "Why not, since life has been boring these past weeks." 

"Thank you, Weyrleader. You have given much to Pern, to have fought through one Pass; it is my hope that you and yours will be able to help Pern once again."

"Curious, but you claim to be from the future! We shall see what the Weyrleaders say."

* * *

F'lar looked at Robinton, the Master Harper of Pern, with the eyes of a lost man, and Robinton all but flinched to see it. It echoed heavily in his heart of that day that F'lon had first come to him after Larna's death.

"He is a steady young man, and valiant. If we are right, if his discussion with Lord Lessale is anything to go by, F'nor will find his way back to you," Robinton offered. "A brave thing, and one you should not worry over just yet, for the dragons have not keened Canth's passing."

"Would they know, if he is so far back?" F'lar asked, but he shook his head to clear that thought. F'nor had been **his** since the boy had been born to F'lar's own foster-mother. 

"We've Pern to think of, F'lar, as F'lon would wish now." Mention of the father brought a scowl to the son's face, but F'lar focused on the charts and notes spilled out over the table before them. 

"If I fly light wings, staggered out over the duration…" and F'lar continued, speaking out loud of things Robinton did not, yet, fully understand. It heartened Robinton, to know that F'lon's son could be maneuvered by duty, even in the face of heavy fear and loss.

* * *

"The ones you sent back, living ten turns in the past, I think we will use that as a guide," D'ram told F'nor as they finalized plans. "It seems you and Canth were suffering like our Istan divers who seek to hold their breath too long, and we know there is nothing _between_. So we shall use smaller jumps, following the Red Star as it dwindles and grows again."

All the Weyrleaders and their Women looked around, seeing the accord. Some few riders had chosen to go to Benden instead, but by and large these men and women were not content to live out peaceful lives, having been born under the menace they ached to fight.

"Twenty-five turns gives us all a good change to the Star," R'mart said. "But should not stress the dragons."

"Then we will do it, starting tomorrow night, from our Weyrs!" T'ton said, enthusiastic about this venture into a new future.

* * *

Mnementh was the first clue, as he reared up to his full height, F'lar down on the ground beside Lytol who had agreed to come to Ruatha and begin a new Weaving Hall there, as well as the Master Harper and Lord Lessale. Mnementh's bugling was all but drowned out as hundreds of wings beat in the air above them, the full mass of all the weyrs having come to this point, where F'nor could be certain they would land in time to save Pern from the next Fall.

Canth dropped like a stone, landing precipitously close to Mnementh, and letting F'nor slide free of his neck. 

The brown rider did not get a chance to break into a run; F'lar was already coming to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and bringing their foreheads together in a rare show of public affection.

"Son of my father, you are insane!" F'lar whooped, but the proof of F'nor's daring plan was settling along ridges and fields, or blinking out to go to their homes. Only ten dragons joined the bronze and brown on the ground, those who led the missing Weyrs, to meet Benden's Weyrleader.

"I found a solution," F'nor said wryly, before he turned to introduce all of his new associates to his brother, aware that F'lar was keeping a hand on him the whole time.

Pern would be saved, and they could breathe freely once more.

**Author's Note:**

> T'ton, called T'ron in later books, has been given his original name here as the personality seen in Flight was so different than Quest.


End file.
